more to come perhaps

Normal Horoscope

Aries: The stars say you are lost. That’s okay! Most people are.

Taurus: it’s surprising how much happiness a little fried dough can bring us. Shame it dosen’t work that way for people.

Gemini: Cause a scene at your local McDonalds and then cause a second scene by apologizing dramatically. You’ll feel better.

Cancer: The stars show me you. You lie there, face illuminated by a rectangle of dull light. Get some rest. You need it.

Leo: We can only hate what we see in ourselves. Consider that you may be full of mosquitoes.

Virgo: The stars speak of you in hushed whispers so I can’t hear, but generally they sound encouraging.

Libra: The indecision you feel can be alleviated by eating an entire sleeve of fig newtons while staring at your kitchen wall.

Scorpio: Pallid, grey things stalk just outside your vision, feeding on all the things youve forgotten.

Saggatarius: Nothing that beckons has ever turned out to be good. Good things dont need to beckon.

Capricorn: They blog about you.

Aquarius: Show your contempt for the concept of money by beating a cop with another cop.

Pisces: Come now, you’re more clever than meta-humor. Or perhaps you just don’t know yourself too well? Something to think about, regardless.

FFXV 1st Anniversary stream info dump:

(I did my best to throw in the most important info (there was A LOT), sorry if I missed something. Feel free to add to it)

Survey(May 24th to June 7th) was discussed, here are some highlights:
- Many fans were not satisfied with the later half of the game, especially Ch13
- What was liked about the world: monsters/enemies, NPCs, scenery, Noctis’s story (disliked: Niflheim’s lack of story)
- What was liked about the system: combat, team work, leveling system (disliked: summons)
- What update was liked the most: Chapter 13 Galdio route, font size, added accessories (disliked: collaborations)
- Most wanted updates: Event scenes, playable characters, invisible wall removal
- Players want more story for Luna and Ignis
- Positive about story: Ending, last camp fire scene, bromance
- Negative about story: Characters and story lacked substance
- Fans want more info on Lucis, Niflheim, summons
- Lots of comments on Versus XIII by fans, they want to know more about it

- Update coming December 12th to fix bugs
- Loading times have improved
- Multiplayer quests and timed quest to be added
- Trade items for buffs
- No outfits to be added yet, but perhaps later on
- More updates will continue to come in the future!

Episode Ignis (no spoilers):
- Multiple endings (to DLC not main game)
- 1 to 2 hours to complete
- To get multiple endings it’ll take 2 to 3 hours or even more
- Around twice the amount of scenes than Episode Prompto
- Special battle available after clearing the episode

- Tabata was late to the stream… surprise
- FFXV comic anthology 2 releases December 27th (in Japan)
- Pocket Edition delayed til winter
- Planning new content for 2018, at least 3 DLC episodes
- Episode Ardyn will be the first to be released, no word on the others yet (I suspect an episode for Luna since she came in 2nd place on the in-game survey)

On Talent and Success

Over the last few months, I’ve been noticing something.

I’ve been seeing writers who are less talented than others find more success.

At the same time, I’ve become more aware of talented writers, smart writers, or passionate writers who sort of drift away.

Since I left high school, I’ve come in contact with a lot of people who dream of being writers. And over the years, I’ve seen many educated and intense aspiring authors … just stop pursuing. Sometimes these are people who have all the right personal qualities to succeed. They are sharp, driven, dedicated, passionate, and they have critical thinking skills. Sure, they may need more practice, but that comes with time. Perhaps, though, it is because they are so intense and critical, they stop believing they can succeed. They don’t think they can actually “make it.”

A few weeks ago, I was talking with a family member about the fact that we as human beings often (and sometimes unknowingly) limit ourselves and what we can accomplish. Mentally, almost silently, we think, I can’t do this, and in just believing that, we cut short our abilities. The mental energy we spend thinking about what we can’t do takes away from the mental energy we could use simply pursuing what we want or need to do.

What’s strange is that over time, I’ve seen people who appear to lack a skill or quality find more professional success than their peers. They might win an award. Get a steady readership. Make more professional sales than people of higher writing abilities. I don’t think this is because the world has gone all topsy-turvy. I think it’s because these people don’t limit themselves as much, in that way. Maybe they are blind to their weaknesses, or maybe they aren’t. Whatever the case, they don’t let those weaknesses hold them back. They don’t let fear of not being good enough hold them back.

Lately I’ve been thinking about people I’ve met, in college, in day-to-day life, wherever, and how some could be doing what they dreamed of doing, if they simply pursued it a bit more carefreely as some of the people I meet at writing conferences do. But they never gave themselves permission.

Of course, life happens, and priorities can happen. Everyone writes differently and every writing career is different. I’m not saying we need to run out of our houses and throw crappy first drafts out everywhere. I’m just saying give yourself the permission to jump in. For some, that might mean allowing yourself to begin taking writing seriously–to take yourself serious as a writer. For others it might mean finally submitting a story somewhere. For another, it might mean allowing yourself to self-publish. For someone else it might mean allowing yourself to write and enjoy writing.

On occasions, I have talked to instructors that say the most talented people are the ones who are hardest on themselves. And it makes sense. They have a strong eye for criticism. They expect a lot out of their work. They demand a lot of themselves. And they don’t settle. In contrast, the students who are less talented may be the ones who think they deserve the highest marks in the class. This seems backwards, but it’s often true. This second group ends up pursuing all kinds of avenues, because they believe they deserve it, or simply because they give themselves permission to. They are more likely to find success than the talented person who never submitted, published, or shared anything.

Years ago, a family member and I used to repeat this observation to each other. “Why is so-and-so a bad-a**? Because he thinks he’s a bad-a**.” The idea is that everyone who seems to act like they are awesome and cool are simply that way because they believe they are.

In some sense, that same principle can be applied to other areas. Why is that person a writer? Because she thinks she’s a writer. Why is that person successful? Because he think he’s successful. There are limits to how far this principle can extend, of course, and there are exceptions, but in some ways, following it is like starting on training wheels. It slashes down limits you’ve put on yourself. You are what you are because you believe you are.

Now success might not mean the same thing to everyone. Success to one person might be selling a lot of copies of her book. Success to another person might be being able to write full-time, regardless of exposure. It might be becoming the best current writer in that genre, even if the genre has a small readership, like weird west fiction.

Ideally, we become the best of both groups of students mentioned earlier. People in the first group may need to let themselves take a chance to pursue. People in the second group may need to sharpen their critical eye and dedication, because while they may already have found success, that success will have a ceiling based on their talent.

Whatever kind of writer you hope to be, whether it’s a bestselling, award-winning writer, or fierce fanfiction writer, decide today to give yourself permission to pursue success.

mizjoely  asked:

For the fic ask: "You caught me without my gloves I'm practically naked!"

Taken from this historical prompts post- 

Thanks for this one! Love it! And naturally, this is Victorian era, seeing as that was a big time gloves/modesty time period. Hope you like! :D

Molly tugged impatiently at the satin material at her fingertips with jaw tightly clenched. She was absolutely suffocating.

And it wasn’t just the temperature in that dining hall.

She lay the cream colored gloves on the railing of the balcony and took deep breaths of the cool night air, trying to ease her mind and tell herself it would all be ok.

Thomas was fine, perfectly fine. He was a lovely man. And more than likely he’d be proposing any day. Surely this would be an excellent match. Yes, the conversation was a bit tedious and there seemed to be no spark, but Molly was no fool. Fairytales didn’t exist and it was silly to wait for a man who could turn her turn to a puddle with a single touch.

Molly sighed and slid her hands along the railing, enjoying the cool metal on her now bare fingers. Though her relaxation was short lived, seeing as she accidentally knocked her gloves over the edge and to the ground below…just as she heard a low voice behind her.

“Yes, it will always be like this.”

She whirled around to see Sherlock Holmes stepping onto the balcony, wearing a knowing smirk.

Ah yes. He was the other reason it was getting a bit warm inside.

“Always be like what?” Molly questioned as she laid her bare arms on the railing behind her back.

He chuckled while coming closer. “Oh Miss Hooper, you know who I am. Obviously you were standing out here questioning the course your life is currently taking. Wondering if things will always be quite this dull, and wondering whether you can bear to put up with it for the rest of your days. And there are things you question whether you can do without.”

She swallowed hard, her arms now the least of her worries. She felt a bit stripped down in more than one way now.

She’d spent enough time with Sherlock Holmes, the infamous detective, to decide that he was nothing short of intoxicating. Molly couldn’t get enough of him, and that frightened her more than a little. Especially given the fact that he usually seemed so aloof.

“A-and how can you claim to know my thoughts so very intimately, sir?” Molly questioned softly, though she was almost afraid to hear the answer. Was she so very transparent?

Sherlock stepped closer still, keeping eye contact as he slowly reached around her back to slide a hand over her bare arm, causing goose bumps to erupt all along her flesh, which she blushed to know he’d naturally feel beneath his fingertips. She couldn’t possibly look away, no matter how hard her heart was pounding and how difficult it seemed to get enough air.

He took her hand and gently pulled it out from behind her back to slowly bring it up to his lips, pressing a warm kiss to her smooth skin. As he removed his mouth, he spoke softly.

“Perhaps, Miss Hooper, I have simply recognized something in you…which I’d recently seen in myself.”

Molly felt her face heat to the boiling point when her gaze inadvertently fell upon his lips, thinking of how they’d just felt on her hand. And just when she saw his eyes slip to her lips as well…he unexpectedly stepped away and moved toward the door.

A crushing blow of disappointment washed over her and she began questioning whether this was some sort of cruel trick or game or-

“Miss Hooper, are you coming?”

Her gaze shot to his in confusion. “Pardon?”

“It occurs to me that no matter how fine a place Dr. and Mrs. Watson had chosen for their engagement dinner, your gloves should not be left in the grass behind this establishment. It seems only right that we briefly steal away to retrieve them from where they fell.” His lips lifted in a small but telling smile.

Molly’s lips bloomed in a smile to match his as she slowly crossed the balcony to take his arm so that they could quietly slip out the back way and into the moonlight. Granted, fairytales still didn’t exist, but nevertheless she was perfectly content. Because what did exist was true love.

And she’d found it.

Tenka KoiRan 3rd Anniversary


Note: Loose TL. Please kindly correcting me for any off/wrong TL for I always a learner~

[ At last, here come everyone’s speeches for Mimi~ ]

Takeda Shingen

You are the only woman I ever think to place by my side.
That hasn’t change, even from now on, until the end.

Uesugi Kenshin

3 years of time, for us it’s only a short while.
Let’s spend even more enjoyable and fun times - together.

Ishida Mitsunari

Before one knows it, 3 years already passed, huh?
Having you by my side during these times…I must express my gratitude.

Tokugawa Ieyasu

3 years huh…such times are not enough at all.
Since I won’t allow you to leave yet.

Maeda Toshiie (Inuchiyo)

I met you long time ago, but it has changed a lot in these 3 years. We are even lovers now…
Idiiiot, what are you being shy of? Since we are going to spend even longer time from now on, are you prepared for it?

Toyotomi Hideyoshi

It’s already been 3 years, right? If feels like it’s only yesterday that I met you, I’m happy I can spend times together everyday.
Next year, to more upcoming years…stay by my side forever.

Katakura Kojuro

It feels like it’s been a while, but it’s actually passed in a blink, isn’t it? Thank you.
And then, would you still stay with me for a long time to come?

Date Masamune

3 years…had such times already passed? Thanks to you I was able to change.
…Stay by my side in the future too.

Kirigakure Saizo

No matter what I say, you’ll still stay by my side, won’t you?
Hmn, that’s not so bad right? I too don’t feel like leaving my little lady.

Sanada Yukimura

Meeting you, watching your smile everyday, became my life purpose now.
You are my treasure. Stay by my side, from now on.

Akechi Mitsuhide

Spending times with you, it seems the flow of months and years passed by so quickly, you know?
These past 3 years are truly enjoyable. Let’s continue to share happy times together.

Oda Nobunaga

3 years passed since we met huh?
I don’t have enough of you yet. Remain by my side too in future. 

Maeda Keiji my love

[ Everyone seems to love Mimi so much, right? ]
[ Of course that includes me. I would like to do various things together with Mimi too from now on alright~ ]



Missing out the 3rd anniversary celebration that’s supposed to be yesterday -

Date Shigezane

Ahhh…I also wanted to convey my thanks and gratitude for Mimi along with them…

Mimi, I did this late, but thanks for these 3 years!
Tho I’m like this, but…I’m feeling a lot of grateful more than anyone! Please keep treating me kindly even in the future! 




fascinating people i know

aries sun x cancer moon

i know two people with this combination and they are both very direct and not scared to confront a problem. very easy to get along with, they like to cater to your needs. gets attached to people very easily but try not to show it as much. deeply passionate and sentimental.

libra sun x scorpio moon

just wants to please everyone and wants everyone to be happy. feels deeply and very passionate about the things they love. has an eye for beauty. humorous and easy-going. always tries to cater to you. big heart willing to share love to everyone. has a seemingly large amount of layers, a soft aura but an intense core.

scorpio sun x cancer moon

very good at keeping a conversation. cynical humor. tough mask but sensitive sweetheart underneath. will be protective and possessive over you, cares deeply and isn’t afraid to say/do so even if they don’t know if the feeling will be reciprocated. trust is very important to them and they are loyal and committed. remembers a lot about you. 

capricorn sun x aquarius moon

very misunderstood. the hardest worker and highly ambitious. opinionated and stubborn, sticks to their morals. loves to help and educate everyone around them. believes in progressing forward together. a loyal, laid-back friend you can just chill with. 

pisces sun x pisces moon

biggest sweethearts. art lover. photography, books, music, paintings, etc all touch them very deeply. love hard and easily. agreeable and hard to dislike. wanderlusts and always stuck in a beautiful daydream. very pleasing to listen to. will always be by your side and is quick to forgive. 

SU Theory: Steven to Connie is Pink to Blue

It wasn’t until seeing this front cover of the upcoming Steven Universe: Art and Origins book that I really noticed the parallels. 

Connie’s back and hair remind me very much of the Blue Diamond mural. And yes, the parallels have been made by others many times, but when it comes to the relationship of Steven and Connie, I think this is how Pink and Blue Diamond were.

Pink brought something magical into Blue’s life and showed her the world around her. Much in the way Steven’s magic and kindness to Connie opened her up to many possibilities and her potential. Yet, Steven and Pink were “out of this world” or at the very least, estranged from their societal cultures.

Connie introduces books to Steven and shows him life void of crystal gems and magic. Being human. Likewise, Blue probably showed Pink the whole rundown of homeworld culture. When Steven doesn’t understand or is slow to learn about books, Connie is exasperated, but she continues to try. 

I think Pink was Blue’s first close relationship. Where Yellow and perhaps White come off as sisterly or more parental and controlling, Pink was loose and free. She saw the world from an entirely different perspective. 

Steven says in the “We are the Crystal Gems” extended song, “I will fight to be everything that everybody wants me to be when I’m grown,” can apply to Pink Diamond as well. While Steven will soon start to break out of this mold, Pink Diamond didn’t get to be who she wanted to be.  She tried, but she knew she needed to be the Diamond they wanted her to be. This is where Pink fails and Steven will break out and succeed her. 

So the relationship of Steven to Connie being the same as Pink to Blue Diamond is interesting and really shows just how close the two Diamonds were. Perhaps close enough for fusion. 

Now headcanoning Priyanka as Yellow and Doug as White Diamond. Poor Trying-to-be-cool-with-the-kids White Diamond. Still upholding the rules and trying to make them look cool. Blue and Pink were crazy backseat drivers.

anonymous asked:

My sisters been sending your (amazingly) written metas, but I'm still confused as to what "Performance!Dean" is. Could you explain? ❤❤❤❤❤❤

Hi! Thank you!

Performing!Dean is a tag that many of us use to explain the way that Dean portrays himself to the outside world, suppressing parts of himself that he doesn’t think should be outwardly shown.

It’s a form of SUBLIMATION (a psychological term meaning to repress emotions / a part of oneself), a term which he actually uses in 12x05.

It’s a great example. The writers KNOW that we associate Dean’s love of pie with women / being comfortable / the home and family feeling, and cake with the repressed side of him (it is repeatedly used in this context, Dean really wanting it but never allowing himself to have it or just nibbling at the edges). It’s quite a famously known concept.

So… when Sam asks Dean if he wants pie and Dean says no, which basically never happens, when Sam then looks so DONE and starts talking about how Mary is gone and… (the implication being he is about to mention Cas being gone too)… then Dean says nope nope I am FINE and Sam FINALLY calls Dean out on it, saying “Dean, it’s called SUBLIMATION”.

Originally posted by castielamigos

And Dean finally relents and says “Yeah, its kinda my thing”. (And then later in the diner he is seen to have eaten a whole slice of cake in front of Sam and no-one makes a big deal out of it….)


Because THIS is Dabb again taking what has been IN THE SCRIPT and in the show for 12 years and building on it, making it BLATANT. Because we are building to endgame now, SPN isn’t likely to last past season 13-14, so the character arcs that were set up in season 1 (and 4 for Cas) need to be tied up, so we, the audience NEED it to be made obvious when it has just been in the subtext. THAT IS WHY SO MUCH IS SO BLATANT THIS SEASON. Ie Performing!Dean, Destiel, Sam and the MoL story, Mary being the catalyst for Dean’s self acceptance arc and Sam’s self forgiveness arc around Lucifer (which I think will be much more blatant next season re: Jack as his mirror).

With Performing!Dean it started to be made a bit more obvious since Sam told Dean that he was ‘kind of butch’ and people probably thought he was ‘overcompensating’ in season 2 but it still stayed subtext, Dean checking out a few guys here and there, only really getting with women when he was having his ‘I’m going to go to Hell and need comfort’ or ‘Sam is dead, Cas left’ moments or since he met Cas, whenever Cas had left, making Dean feel crappy and rejected or had just DIED, using it as a coping mechanism, even blatantly role playing in season 9 after he feels so bad about kicking Cas out of the bunker etc to the point that in 12x18 it is so blatant that this is what it is about, they even have Dean saying outloud that he is settling for Sam’s omelette mere seconds after clearly having settled for the waitress because she wasn’t what he really wanted on top of all the other give aways…

Anyway, it’s not just about his sexuality or feelings for Cas, there are many other aspects too, and those are the ones that are cemented in seasons 1-3. Most of these seem all to stem from John and if you see snippets from John’s journal it makes sense.

John says he is proud of Dean when he kills monsters, womanises, drinks etc etc. So guess what a young impressionable Dean learned was the best way to act in life?

Now, over the years bits have come out here and there. Every time we see Dean with a sexual partner he has been the submissive one, he is clearly an extremely giving lover and very caring. He is not a dude bro womaniser at heart, he cares for all the women he sleeps with enough to be kind and gentle with them, even the waitress in 12x18 who really he doesn’t REALLY CARE about, she’s just a coping mechanism, but he is still extremely sweet with her.

He drinks for years of course, he is a functioning alcoholic for most of the show, but lately he has switched to coffee… unless something really bad is going down. Like when we saw the empty bottle in his room in 12x19…

He listens to old rock music because it reminds him of his mom and dad, not because he is a real metal head. Yeah absolutely he loves it too I’m sure, but really it’s the emotional pull. And we haven’t heard him do so since 12x07. Just saying. He also admits to liking Taylor Swift in season 10, after firstly saying HELL NO, same with the cucumber water in 12x07. It’s not the music or the water or whatever as such, that is absolutely NOT what we are saying is making us feel Dean is bisexual or has a hidden side to himself, its the fact that he HIDES it first then admits to it afterwards, that is the essence of Performing!Dean.

When Sam drinks the cucumber water, no-one batted an eyelid, that means nothing to us, because Sam is super comfortable with who he is in THIS respect, even though he carries guilt etc, but that is another subject. But because Dean made a huge deal about how uncool and basically unmanly it was, after all we know of him over the years, THEN went and drank it anyway, saying “shut up” when Sam is like “seriously?!” THAT is where the Performing!Dean meta comes from. And Sam is the same as us, he doesn’t care if Dean is bi, or if he likes Taylor Swift or cucumber water or WHATEVER, what he DOES care about is the fact that Dean feels the need to hide it from him.

There are so many small points along the series that point to a lot of Dean’s persona being fake or exaggerated and how sometimes Sam knows and sometimes he doesn’t, it would be funny if it wasn’t tragic.

Deep down Dean Winchester is a soft, kind and generous soul who just wants to be loved and to help people.


Originally posted by disneyandthefamilybusiness

So yeah, the fact of the matter is that Performing!Dean has been there all along, since the PILOT, over the years it has been showed to us that it exists then some of the walls have started coming down. If anyone dares to tell me that Performing!Dean isn’t a thing (which I was told earlier this season, lmao) then I will kindly point them towards 12x11 and 12x22.

Also, let us not forget that even though 12x11 was mostly an exposition for Performing!Dean when he lost his memories, again harking back to the HEART is the person, NOT their memories theme of the season, we also were given the golden snippet that DEAN RODE LARRY BEFORE HE GOT WACKED WITH MAGIC. This is to show us that Dean’s walls are coming down this season. When Sam called him up on it in a way that seemed to be taking the piss, Dean, rather than attempt to deny or tell him to shut up actually embraced it and gloated about how GOOD he was at it. ATTA BOY DEAN!

With the resurrection of Mary and Dean’s near - complete death experience it seems that Dean got to the point in season 12 where he just didn’t want to hide from himself anymore and so let these walls down further, there were small snippets of this in nearly EVERY episode. 

12x11 was the exposition for casual viewers to see this side of him more clearly (in the same way that 12x19 was for Dean and Cas’s clearly more than platonic relationship, which will not be built on with HUGE LEGO BRICKS since Cas died), and now with the grenade launcher as a metaphor, Dean literally blew down his walls in 12x22. The culmination of this story was his confrontation with Mary where he explains WHY he always had this facade, because he had a shitty childhood, had to be a parent to Sam and that it wasn’t FAIR and he didn’t cope with it well at all.

So. There we have it. Performing!Dean is REAL, it was there ALL ALONG, we were RIGHT in seeing it because it is confirmed in 12x11 and then addressed and to some extent dismantled in 12x22, and the meta idea that the grenade launcher is associated with Performing!Dean was ALSO used.

Just… wowzers.

Originally posted by itsokaysammy

I don’t expect Dean to suddenly act completely differently now, he won’t, there are just some aspects of him that will be slightly more obvious or he won’t hide certain parts of himself. He still isn’t completely done with this, as Jensen himself said that there will be more of this to come in season 13…

I expect him to perhaps once or twice order a slice of cake or an ice cream sundae, to listen to the radio and not turn it over if a pop song comes on, to be more open with his feelings towards his family (and yeah, Destiel is a part of this for sure), a nice turn around but also not jarring, because it’s just a PART of Dean, not his whole self, a lot of what we see is really fully him, so it’s not that he is going to completely radically change!

Anyway, its all very exciting as the metaphorical death of Performing!Dean is just a part of what most of us see as a positive endgame for TFW and it is all looking pretty good so far :D

moonlight | steve harrington

summary: taking care of drunk, vulnerable steve turns out to be nothing like y/n expected. then again, steve harrington has always been a mystery.

word count: 1092

warning(s): mild language

a/n: i know i said i was working on requests - which i am! - but once this idea got in my head i knew i had to write it. also, this is my first piece of fanfiction in like… 2 years, so feel free to let me know if it sucks. :-)

the sun is setting
and you’re right here by my side.
and the movie’s playing
but we won’t be watching tonight.
every look, every touch
makes me wanna give you my heart.

He calls you moonlight when he’s grinning and you’ve got his leather jacket zipped up to your chin.

You laugh, your breath coming out like a dragon puff of air in the winter cold. He’s drunk already, you’re sure of it, and he looks so carefree in the fragments of light streaming in through the car windows. So happy. So beautiful.

Shit. You must be drunk, too.

About a year ago, Steve declared this spot to be your happy place, and your happy place it was. It’s a small plot of land just south of Hawkins surrounded by farmland that doesn’t belong to anyone or anything except the tiny specks of cattle you can see about an acre away - and now, in a sense, the two of you. It’s covered in thick trees and thorn-covered bushes except for a patch of dirt right next to the road. You suppose hitchhikers used to camp out on it when they couldn’t find a ride.

That patch - the one that’s just big enough for Steve’s car to park on - is your happy place.

Keep reading

Reblog if you are in for S7, but will drop it so damn fast if they kill off Emma or screw up CS happy ending without hope of fixing it.

Hopefully JMO can come back for more episodes after the premiere. Perhaps in 7B, especially if it’s the shows final season which I’ll be shocked if it isn’t.

I’m writing the synopsis for the next episodes of underverse. Things are going to get a bit complex, perhaps more videos will come out than I expected. At least they won’t be very long and hard to make like main episodes. I apologize for what will happen In advance. 

it’s really interesting seeing people who grew up in poverty and later became successful in life become the poster children of capitalism. because they have not just fully bought into but have personally lived that myth of: ‘if you can do it, anyone can do it’. those who don’t see themselves as exceptional and lucky people who succeeded against the odds, they see themselves as perfectly ordinary individuals who just ‘worked hard’ - unlike those other people begging for government handouts

and it’s a certain kind of tragedy seeing these people who have grown up in poverty end up with so little empathy and compassion for those who are still struggling. and to see this arrogant need to feel superior to others which lies underneath it all. because it’s easier to feel better about your own ‘accomplishments’ when you have the suffering of others to measure yourself against. ‘at least i’m not on welfare’ ‘at least i’m not homeless’ ‘at least i am a hard working person’ ‘at least i didn’t take the easy way out’

and there’s a certain truth to victims who fought their way to success under a certain system becoming the biggest proponents of that system. because the existence of that system makes them feel special about themselves for being the standout. because they have internalised enough of the lies to be accepted by their original oppressors as ‘one of them’ and become ‘worthy’ of succeeding. because they don’t think of questioning the myth when they themselves are living proofs that hard work = success.

because if you can blame the individual, that means it’s not the system that’s at fault, now is it?

leather jackets and cars -seongwoo scenario-

A/N: soooooo this is my first scenario on this blog!! (wooohoooo) lol. I really, really hope you guys like it… I originally was going to make this a guanlin scenario, but I decided it was too suggestive to make him the main character, so I changed it to seongwoo. anyways, hope you enjoy!! :-)

–WARNING: suggestive material

“Oh Daddy, I don’t want to spend all day in this stupid office!”

“You won’t be spending all day here…you’ll be spending all summer here.”

You groaned. Your father thought that instead of letting you spend your summer on beaches, by pool sides, with your friends, you should be in the police station. You’ll be sorting out his paperwork, transferring calls to his office, and taking down notes/messages for him. You thought it was the dullest thing in the world. Just because your father was a police captain did not mean you should throw away your whole summer.

He led you through the crowded office room to a desk beside his door. “You’ll sit here and work,” he said, “Answering calls, taking down messages, and speaking with very important officials in town. This will be a very important lesson for you, Y/N.”

“An important lesson in what, Dad?” you asked, sitting behind the desk.

An important lesson in what happens to people when they commit crimes,” he gestured to the multiple desks nearby. You saw officers sitting down with unsavory-looking people handcuffed to their chairs. You could spot people sitting in the holding cells nearest you, eying you in your boat-neck sweater tucked into your burgundy skirt. “If you keep keepin’ on with this behavior of yours, you’re gonna end up like one of those hoodlums.”

“Daddy, just because I was smoking under the bleachers doesn’t mean I’m going to live a life of crime,” you said. “You’re such a square!”

“I may be a square, but I am your father and I don’t want you to start throwing your life away just because you want to be cool,” He said. “First it’s your grades, then it’s staying out after your curfew, and now it’s cigarettes!”

“But you smoke too, Daddy.”

“That’s because I’m an adult,” he said. He moved to his office, “Start sorting out those files on your desk. I’ll come back to check on your at lunch time…and wipe that lipstick off! There’s no red-lips allowed in the office, I told you!”

You didn’t listen. As you began shifting through the various reports, you understood your father’s concern completely, though found it completely unnecessary. If he bothered listening, he’d know your grades did not drop. Only the math class did, because Mrs. Burbage is a heinous bitch who confuses people on purpose. You stayed out past curfew because traffic held you up. You also smoked cigarettes on occasion; not all the time like he did. You did not get why he could not trust you. It’s as if you living your own life scared him. His little girl was making her own decisions, and they were decisions he didn’t agree with.

So, instead of conforming and trying to understand, he simply punished you.

You sorted out a lot of the messy paperwork your father handed you, and filed them in the correct cabinets. You made coffee for him, you set up meetings with town officials, and were glanced at by officers and offenders alike. You were the new girl; they’d grow tired of you eventually. Your day remained in a dull state before they were wrestled in.

“Hey, hey, hey! Watch the hair!” a tall brunette boy in a leather jacket said.

Hands off the jacket!” A pink-haired one said, struggling out of an officer’s grip.

Eleven boys wearing black leather jackets, jeans and sneakers walked into the precinct. You recognized the logos on the backs of their jackets: the letter “W” with the number “1” right after it. You’d seen certain buildings tagged with such a logo on them around the seedier parts of town. Wanna One. You’d heard they were quite a rowdy group; they caused trouble on occasion like the other motorcycle gangs in town. These boys were young though; still school age, you can’t think of them doing anything particularly wrong. They were lead to a holding cell closest to you.

Oh sweetheart!” The first boy groaned, “You are beautiful!” You blushed, looking away from him. “You don’t have to be shy, baby”

Get in ‘ere, ya punk!” the policeman holding him said as he shoved him into the small cell. “We’re gonna ring all ya folks first, and then start laying out charges. In the meantime, we’re gonna thumb ya and put ya all on the books!.”

Thumb me? Dick, that’s a little inappropriate, don’t you think?” The handsome brunette smirked. “What kind of police station is this?”

“Aargh! Ya lucky we ain’t doin’ cavity searches!” he slammed his baton on the bars to make him jump back. The police officer walked over to you, his demeanor suddenly changing. “I hate to do this to ya on ya first day, hun,” he began, “But somebody’s gotta get these boys checked in. Wallace will help ya out so the boys don’t, uh, you know do anything inappropriate towards ya.”

“No problem, Richard,” You smiled.

“Thanks, sweetie.” He explained the booking system to you, which was basically taking down information about each boy to have on file, and then charges could be made by police. “Wally, start bringin’ ‘em over 'ere one at a time!”

Wallace, another officer, brought over the pink-haired boy, Daniel, you learned, smiled and flirted through his whole interview. You’d be lying if you said he wasn’t charming. The blondie, seungwoon, came up next. Much haughtier than the others, he flexed for you slightly as he stood there in front of you and made a suggestive comment or two. The handsome brunette, minhyun, tried to be flirty, though only ended up getting whacked by Wallace when his eyes fell to your cleavage.

The last one was the one who called you ‘sweetheart’. He came up to you quite smoothly without a fuss. His broad shoulders, long legs, and tall hair made him stand out from the rest of his gang. You tried not staring at his face for too long in fear your attraction might be given away.

Name?” you asked.

“How about you put down 'Man of Your Dreams’?” he grinned.

You laughed, but Wallace clotted him, “Watch who you’re talking to, kid. That’s the captain’s daughter.”

He beamed, “Psh, even more reason to be so nice and friendly. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Y/N,” you replied. You then moved down the page, “Date of Birth?”

“August 25th, 1995,” he said.


“You mean vertically or horizontally?” he winked, smirking down at you.

You blushed a deep red, but this comment only got him hit by Wallace again. You went through the whole interview with his flirtations and suggestions, which resulted in him being hit again. You swore he’d have brain damage before the end of it. When Wallace took him back to the cell, you were charged with taking the files back to Richard’s desk. You walked by their cell, getting the usual hoots and hollers from them.

Seongwoo, though, simply glanced at you. You felt his eyes follow you around the office, though whenever you turned to him, he was focused on something else. Perhaps it is your head playing games with you. Also, you knew your father would never approve of a boy like him. Though, when he winked at you from across the room, you couldn’t stop yourself from blushing.

“You’re cute when you blush like that,” he said, angling his head at edge of the cell which was a few feet from you. “Perhaps I should come around here more often and make you blush like that all the time.”

“Then I wouldn’t have to bother putting blush on in the morning.”

“But you should keep on those red lips of yours,” he smiled. “They look…really good on you.”

You giggled, “You think so? My dad thinks it makes me look like a floosy.”

“I don’t think so,” he said. “They bring out the shape of your lips, and makes them look very tempting.”

Tempting for what, exactly?” You asked.

Kissing. Slowly. Softly,” he suggestively. “I wouldn’t mind having that smeared all over me if it meant I could kiss you.”

You blushed a deep red, “Oh my…”

“How about you and I go out tonight? There’s a movie playing at the drive in. We can go in my car,” he said. “If you want.”

You considered his offer. “I suppose I could,” you shrugged. “I don’t see why not.” You knew why not. Dad would kill you for talking to him, let alone riding around in a car with him at night. He’ll probably try to cop a feel or make out with you, but you felt he wouldn’t try too hard. Plus, it would be a relief to go out with somebody new.

Perfect,” he smiled. “Sounds like a date.”

“Ong! Your folks are here!” An officer called as he unlocked the cell.

“See you tonight, gorgeous,” he smiled.

Your father certainly won’t be happy about this.

Inspector - Tommy Shelby

Hey, can u do a tommy fic where y/n and Tommy are together. But y/n has to flirt with Cambell to get info and Tommy gets jealous when Cambell brags to him

Inspector - Tommy Shelby

The first time you heard Inspector Campbell’s name was not from Tommy. Arthur was talking to John about a new Inspector in town, a man who had hunted IRA members in Belfast and was now being dropped into Birmingham by Winston Churchill.  

The second time you heard of him was when he came waltzing through the doors of the Garrison, not seeming to care that the facility was home to Blinders and their allies. You were behind the counter, getting yourself a glass of brandy because Harry was swamped with orders.  

“That’s inspector Campbell,” Harry whispered, walking passed you.  

Keep reading

fortune’s fool: peter parker II

peter parker x reader

A/N: multi-part fic based off of a twitter post which I won’t link until the end so as not to spoil anything :-) Each part can be read individually or as a series!

requested: nope

Words: 2000+

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, mentions of drinking, mentions of death

summary: Two Empire State University students fated to meet

let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list!

requests are open!

1 | 2 | 3 | 4masterlist

2. Understanding-

21 year old Peter, 19 year old reader

She woke with her head buried in stark white sheets, a rhythmic thrumming pounding against the base of her skull as she tried to gather her thoughts. She was definitely not in her own room, but the scent that surrounded her cocooned body was a familiar one, and the easy, measured breaths that she could hear from beyond her wall of pillows was a symphony she’d learned by heart.

With a groan, she turned on her side and pushed away the pile of blankets that separated herself from her best friend’s body. His bare chest rose and fell, faint puffs of air escaping his slightly-opened mouth every so often. Soft curls fell across his peaceful face that lay smooth and unwrinkled as he slept.

This wasn’t the first time that she’d woken up in the same bed as Peter Parker. It was, however, the first time she’d found herself naked and twisted in his sheets. She couldn’t say that she was surprised. They’d been the closest of friends for over a year now, and they both knew that some sort of consummation of their friendship was inevitable.

It didn’t worry her. She knew that what had happened wasn’t serious, and therefore, that nothing about their relationship would change. She knew that Peter knew that, too.

That’s why it happened, she supposed. Because they both knew it wouldn’t ruin anything. It was bound to happen some day, anyway. Instead of worrying, she was content to lay in the peaceful silence until Peter woke up and they’d have to talk.

She breathed in the cool morning air that blew through the slightly opened window and caused the sheer white curtains to flutter. The rest of Manhattan was surely awake by now, evidenced by the honking of horns and shouting from street corners. This was what she loved most about Peter’s apartment. The building was squished between another apartment complex and a multi-level shopping center, which was all smack in the middle of the bustling city, one that she’d come to love, perhaps even more than her own home of Long Island.

His own space, however, was a simplistic haven that was just so him that she found herself spending more time at his place than her own home.

“Just move in already,” is what he’d said once on a warm morning after she’d slept over for the fourth night in a row.

“No, you’d get sick of me!” she’d laughed. He disagreed, but they never spoke about it again. Still, she continued to spend days on end flitting between his kitchen and his sofa and his bedroom, working on her own things, simply coexisting with Peter and not depending too much on his presence to get her own stuff done.

Most often, she could be found sitting on his bed with her textbooks and notes spread around her, all marked in her own code of colored highlighters as she studied or worked on homework while Peter sat at his desk, focused intently on his own work and typing away madly on his laptop, stopping only to remind her to stretch or drink some water or grab a snack. That was just Peter, though; the caring guy she’d met over a year ago who had saved her from days of hauling boxes and who still cared more than anybody else and always thought of her needs before his own.

She loved him, she guessed, but in the purest of ways. She couldn’t stand to lose him, and he felt the same way, because they both knew that the ease of their relationship was not a common thing. They never actively sought anything more from one another, believing that if something was meant to happen, it would happen. For now, they both coveted the freedom they had to see other people, and the knowledge that they still had the other to come back to and laugh about awkward dates and terrible hookups with.

“It’s easier this way,” she’d said. “I don’t want to start anything if I can’t commit my whole being to you.”

“I agree,” was his reply. ‘We both love this whole ‘young college student’ phase too much for us to really be able to give everything to one another like we deserve. Besides, as long as I’ve got you as my best friend, I couldn’t really ask for more.”

Then they’d smiled, Peter with that bright, dazzling thing that you could see from miles away, and her with something soft and shared with him, like a secret she seemed to reserve only for Peter, and then they turned back to their work which had been abandoned only minutes ago.

Sighing softly, she let her eyes trace over Peter’s still-sleeping figure. She wished, sometimes, that they’d met ten years later, when she knew who she was and what she wanted, and she’d be able to love him fully like he deserved. She still wasn’t expecting more from him, but she think it might have been better, knowing their intentions from the beginning.

She didn’t know, though, if he’d be her same Peter. His “after school hobby”, as he’d called it, wasn’t easy on him. She’d seen how much it changed him, even within the short year that they’d known each other. He was more quiet, more self aware. He’d seen horrors and faced death, and there was no one who really understood it, that he was still a kid that had to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

She did her best to listen when he needed her to, when days were dark and he just needed to get things off his chest. He’d told her about Liz and the Vulture and the homecoming night that happened so long ago that changed him forever. He told her about the innocent people that he could’ve, would’ve, should’ve saved, but let their lives slip through his fingers, and how each one weighed heavily on him, every one of them a cold, unbeating heart that couldn’t speak the words of condemnation that he knew they should. He told her about his visits to the graveyards around his city where he stood before their graves and cried tears that he didn’t deserve to cry and apologized profusely, knowing that his words would do nothing to bring them back.

And she would listen. She would let him cry onto her shoulder while she ran soothing fingers through tangled, sweat soaked curls, easing that beautiful mind in its state of turmoil. And then he would push his face deep into her chest while she cradled his head and pressed soft kisses to his hairline while his body racked with sobs.

Who would he be without her? He couldn’t be like this with Ned, couldn’t confide in him like he did with her. MJ would tell him to take his feelings out on the punching bag that hung in the back room of his apartment. He couldn’t even begin to talk to May about it in fear of worrying her half to death. She knew that. She knew everything. And so she became his rock, his unmovable force that he knew would always, always be there for him.

If she wasn’t though? Who would he confide in? Who would ease his pain and help him carry his burden? If it had been ten years later, who knew that he’d even be alive? That there was even a possibility of them meeting at all?

He’d certainly be different. Not the same shining light that she’d come to know so well. Knowing him, he’d let him get lost in his selflessness, his need to be a hero, and push himself further and further into this other version of himself. She didn’t ever want to meet this version of Peter, and so she fought to keep him Peter and not just Spider-Man.

So far, she thinks she’s doing alright. He’s still paranoid at times, always checking over his shoulder, wrapping a protective arm around her waist when they’re out late, but he’s also trying, she knows. He visits Aunt May every weekend, takes a trip to Uncle Ben’s grave once a month, hangs out with his friends regularly. She thinks he’s doing great, all things considered.

Peter began to stir on his side of the bed, a soft groan emitting from beneath the protection of the covers. He rolled over to face her, opening one eye slowly and allowing himself to adjust to the bright light that was now streaming through the window.

“Whatimezit?” he mumbled, pushing his head up to eye her unclothed body. “Wha’d we do last night?”

“We had sex,” she spoke bluntly, giving him a small shrug. “We can talk about it, if you want.”

“Rather not, actually,” he groaned, pushing his head back into his pillow. “How much did I drink?”

“Well, you took three tequila shots straight out of the gate then shotgunned a beer and I kind of lost count after your fifth mixed drink, so I’d say you were sufficiently smashed by the end of the night. Not that I was any better, mind you,” she recalled, stomach churning at the thought of that last beer.

“I feel like absolute shit,” Peter grumbled, face muffled by the fabric of the pillowcase.

“You look it,” she joked, scooting over so they were shoulder to shoulder, pressed together like sardines.

“Hey, not nice,” he pouted, turning his neck so their faces were mere inches away from each other. He smiled at her, breathing in as he spoke again. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Of course,” she responded. “We’ve talked about this before. As long as none of our feelings have changed, I think that we can both move past this.”

“Good. Now who’s making breakfast? Because I really don’t wanna get up right now, but if I don’t have something drenched in grease and hopefully some sort of cheese, my stomach will start eating itself,” Peter remarked, kicking her leg lightly under the sheets.

“Not me! I made you dinner before we left last night,” she answered, returning his kick.

“Let’s just order something in and that way we can stay in bed until it arrives,” he suggested.

“Fine, but you’re paying,” she insisted, and he agreed, allowing the peaceful silence to fall upon them again.

“I’m glad you’re my best friend,” he remarked after the silence settled, pulling her body closer to his with one hand.

“Don’t let Ned hear you say that,” she cautioned teasingly. She knew that Peter’s relationship with Ned was different than the one they had, but was still just as strong, and probably even stronger considering their history. She didn’t mind sharing his attention. She loved Ned just as much as Peter, and she was glad that he still had a close friend from home that always had his back no matter what.

“Ned knows it’s true. He doesn’t mind, I think. Ever since he and MJ picked up those jobs at the Rec Center, they’ve been closer than ever. Now they both gang up on me rather than just MJ,” Peter whined.

“To be fair, though, you deserve it more often than not,” she joked, nudging his shoulder.

“That’s probably true,” he sighed. “Anyway, I meant it. You’re the best person I know. Thank you,” he stated, reaching down to squeeze her hand.

“Thank you,” she responded. “You’ve done so much for me Peter. I’m so lucky to have you.” She smiled and squeezed his hand back, her grin only growing when he leaned over to press a kiss against her forehead.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“One of us should really put some clothes on before we freak out this delivery guy,” Peter mused quietly, not moving at all.

“Yes, one of us should definitely put clothes on and get the food right now,” she looked at him pointedly.

Fine,” he grumbled, sliding out of bed and pulling a pair of flannel pants on while she watched him in amusement, following his movements until he was out the door. Yes, she certainly was lucky to have Peter in her life.

Tagged: @multi-parker @cutie1365 @cersei-lannister @oswald-1998 @kawaiianime03 @lionfart @mrsdoradominguez-barnes @nonewmessage @co0kies08 @dec-snowy @sunshine-little-miss @cubedtriangle @triggerfingerfunction @dailygubler